


Or worse

by Hawkgal13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drug Use, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sick Sam Winchester, Underage Drinking, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3691134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkgal13/pseuds/Hawkgal13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is based on Dean's comment about roofies in 9x13 'The Purge.' A short one shot set in 1995. Dean's 16, Sam's 12. Dean and Sam are staying with Bobby when Dean sneaks out to go to a bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Or worse

**Author's Note:**

> This fic surprisingly light-heartedly (probably not the best description) considering the premise. It's mainly based on Dean and Bobby's father/son relationship after watching 'Inside Man' and is just in response to my general curiosity of why Dean would take time to learn what roofies looked like.

“What? How do you know what roofies look like?” Sam’s words still echoed a little in Dean’s head but the haziness was steadily fading; the energy drink Sam had given him was largely to thank.

Dean racked his sluggish brain for an excuse. “How do you not know? You think I want to end up in a hotel bathtub with my kidney carved out? In Chechnya?” He sipped the energy drink. _Or worse_. He couldn’t help but think back to the first time he’d been warned about the drugs or the amount of time he’d spent learning what roofies actually looked like so that he wouldn’t have to deal with something like this again. All that effort and he still couldn't avoid it.

_**Sioux Falls, 1995.** _

Sam had been ill ever since their dad had dropped them off at Bobby’s a week ago. Before John had left Dean begged him to take him along but apparently this one was just ‘too dangerous’. For Dean that meant a whole week of sitting around with nothing to do and not even getting to choose what to watch on TV. Sure he felt sorry for Sam, his little brother had one nasty stomach bug and couldn’t go ten minutes without throwing up, but it was spring break and this was how Dean was spending it? On the Friday, exactly one week since their dad took off on a hunt, Dean decided he’d had enough. Bobby was in the middle of cleaning up after dinner, which Sam was currently throwing back up, and told Sam he could put a movie on, of course Sam picked ‘The Lion King’ for the billionth time.

Dean leant against the kitchen wall. “Bobby, I’m starting to feel a little ill.”

Bobby didn’t look up from the dishes. “Is it the same thing Sam’s got? Do you want some of the medicine I got for him?”

Dean remembered the foul smelling medicine that Sam had whined about before hurriedly shaking his head. “No, I’m good. I’m just gonna go lie down for a while. I think it’s just a headache.”

“Alright.” Bobby said in reply. He seemed a little suspicious but before he could prod any deeper Sam began hurling again; Dean felt a little guilty for being so happy his brother was vomiting but he was so stir crazy he couldn’t fight the grin that came with his brother’s distraction. Dean tried his hardest not to sprint up the stairs, instead walking slowly so that he maintained his charade.

Dean sat in the bedroom for about ten minutes before he grabbed his jacket and some cash and climbed out the window. He crept through the junkyard and headed towards the town. After about half an hour of walking, Dean reached the closest bar to Bobby’s. Dean sauntered into the bar with as much confidence as he could muster and sat at the bar. A moment later the bar tender headed his way.

“You lost, kid? Looking for your folks?” The greasy looking man asked.

“No, I came in for a drink.” Dean replied petulantly.

The bartender smirked and folded his arms. “Right, what’ll it be then? Soda? Milk?”

Dean frowned in response to the bartenders patronising joke. “No I want a beer.”

“Listen kid” The bartender began until Dean cut him off.

“I’m not a kid. I’m 21 and I want a beer.” Dean sighed when the bartender’s stance didn’t change. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the fistful of dollars he’d brought. “I have money.” He tried as a final attempt.

The bartender shook his head. “Sorry but I can’t serve you unless you have ID. Now either you prove that you’re 21 or you get out, I have other customers to serve.”

Dean huffed. “Fine, I’ll go. Can I at least use your bathroom first or do I need ID for that too?”

“Sure, knock yourself out _kid_ , but don’t linger. I don’t have time to deal with you tonight.” Dean was starting to get real pissed off with the guy so he hopped of the stool and headed to men’s room near the back of the bar.

A man sitting at a table in the corner watched as Dean stomped past on his way to the toilet. “You alright, kid?” He asked.

“I’m not a kid.” Dean almost shouted. He didn’t know where the sudden anger had come from and he just hoped he hadn’t started anything with this guy. Apparently not. The guy at the table just chuckled in response to Dean’s eruption.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you’d be so touchy.” He laughed.

“I’m not touchy,” Dean pouted “It’s just everyone keeps treating me like a baby.”

“Couldn’t get served?” The man asked with a knowing look.

Dean nodded, staring down at his feet.

“Boy, have I been there.” The man laughed again. “Take a seat. I’ll grab a couple beers.” He pushed out the empty chair with his foot and waited for Dean to sit down.

Dean looked from the chair to the man. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. I know you’ll probably just find another way of getting a beer and this is better than you doing anything stupid.” The man took a sip of his own beer as if to tempt Dean further. “And besides you’re ‘not a kid’, right?”

“What about Mr. Happy over there?” Dean asked nodding at the bartender who was still scowling. “He said he wanted me out.”

“Who Frank? He’s too busy to notice.” Dean looked over to see the bartender rushed off his feet at the crowded bar.

After a moment of consideration Dean sat down. “Thanks.” Dean paused, waiting for the man to say his name.

“Kyle.” He answered. “And you?”

“Dean.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dean. I’ll just go grab a couple beers.” Kyle pushed his chair out and made his way to the bar, throwing another glance at Dean as he waited to be served. Dean sat with his head down as he waited for Kyle to return. He didn’t want the bartender to spot him and throw him out. This was the first time in a long time where someone had treated Dean like an adult; Dean wasn’t being forced to watch kids’ movies or spend all day listening to Sam talk about childish stuff. He wasn’t being made to sit in the backseat and do homework that was pretty damn pointless. Dean was finally doing the type of things his dad does every day. Maybe then John will see that Dean could handle going on a hunt.

Kyle reappeared a moment later, placing a beer in front of Dean. “There you go.”

“Thanks.” Dean said as he took a sip. He’d only had beer a couple times before and hadn’t yet managed to mask that he didn’t actually like the taste.

Kyle laughed at the face Dean pulled. “Not much of a beer guy then?”

Dean didn't want to seem to aggressive since Kyle had just bought him a drink and all so he simply grinned back and replied, “Not really.”

Dean spent the next half hour nursing his beer and talking to Kyle about music, cars and movies. It was fun to talk to someone who wasn’t twelve years old or lying to you. As they talked things started getting blurrier for Dean; he never remembered beer being this strong. By the time he reached the bottom of the bottle, Dean could barely keep his head up.

“You alright, Dean?” Kyle’s voice echoed in his head, sounding further away than he really was. Dean tried to rest his eyes on him but all he could see was a haze of colours. Dean tried blinking to clear his sight but his eyelids felt incredibly heavy and soon all he could see was darkness. Dean heard muffled voices and the chill of the night air. The next time Dean opened his eyes he saw the inside of Bobby’s truck. He couldn’t keep his eyes open for long before he fell unconscious again.

When Dean woke up the next morning his head was killing him. His throat felt raw, his eyes stinging from tiredness and it felt as though his brain was trying to break out of his skull.

“Your head hurt?” Bobby asked from the doorway. Dean felt too ill to reply so he just nodded, which turned out felt even worse. “Good.” Dean looked over at him with a puzzled expression. He was expecting at least a little bit of sympathy. “That was pretty stupid what you did last night, Dean.”

“Sorry.” Dean croaked, his words like barbwire against his throat.

“Damn right you’re sorry but you shouldn’t be apologising to me. I ain’t the one who’d be sorry this morning if I hadn’t have found you at that bar last night.” Dean hadn’t heard Bobby sound this angry since Dean and Sam had used Bobby’s shotgun without his permission.

“How did you know I was at the bar anyway?” Dean asked.

“Boy, it doesn’t take a genious to figure out where you’d get to in this town.” Dean attempted another smile as he accepted the water Bobby handed to him, he couldn’t drink more than a sip though and his smile soon faded. “You remember anything from last night?”

Dean shook his head, instantly regretting the movement once again. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and asked, “What happened?” He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know or not but knew that he had to ask.

Bobby sighed and sat down in the chair next to the bed. “I think that guy,”

“Kyle.” Dean interrupted in a whisper.

“I think _Kyle_ slipped you a roofie.” Dean felt like throwing up – partly because of the sloshing of his stomach but mainly because of what he’d just heard. “You’re lucky you’re such a bad liar. I know that Dean Winchester would rather pass out due to pain than admit he has a headache.” Dean laughed, or at least attempted to. “Why did you sneak out to a bar anyway? If you desperately wanted to try beer you should have just asked. I wouldn’t have been ecstatic about you drinking underage but at least you wouldn’t be at some bar where folks could drug ya.” Bobby said.

Dean shrugged, still not looking Bobby in the eye. “I was just sick of being treated like a kid. First dad doesn’t let me go on this hunt with him and I have to spend all week hauled up in here with you and Sammy.” Dean admitted.

“Well I’m sorry if your brother and I aren’t as much fun as nearly being killed by some monster.” Bobby grumbled.

Dean groaned. He felt even worse for how selfish he sounded. “No, it’s not that. It’s just I thought that I’d proved to my dad I can hunt now after I helped with that werewolf a couple months back but then he just sticks me on the side-lines anyway.”

Bobby leaned in closer. “Your daddy’s just doing what he thinks is best for you. And maybe he’s an idiot sometimes but that’s only ‘cause he wants to keep you and your brother safe.”

Dean closed his eyes and curled into himself tighter, trying to disappear from the world. “Are you going to tell him about this?”

“What and let him think that I can’t look after two idiot boys, hell no.” The pair sat quietly for a moment, the muffled sounds of ‘The Lion King’ filling the silence. “Don’t worry, you’ll feel fine after some rest.” Bobby ruffled Dean’s hair gently as not to move his head too much.

“What about Kyle?” Dean asked while he was still lucid, his eyes opening a slit.

“I don’t think Kyle will be bothering anyone for a while.” Bobby winked as he stood up.

“Thanks Bobby.” Dean whispered pulling the blanket over his head.

“Don’t thank me, ya idjit. Just be more careful in the future; you don’t want to wake up in a hotel bathtub with your kidney missing, or worse.” Dean heard the door close as he fell back to sleep, the final thought of ‘or worse’ running through his head.


End file.
